


Remembrance

by adelaide_rain



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: After they've slept together, But before they've talked, Fenris jerking off while thinking about Hawke, M/M, Slavery mention, So there's a healthy dose of angst in there too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-25
Packaged: 2018-04-06 04:32:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4208067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adelaide_rain/pseuds/adelaide_rain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris can't stop thinking about Hawke's touch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Remembrance

Sometimes the mansion feels lonely. Especially now; Fenris hasn't seen Hawke for three weeks, not since they slept together. With thin lips, Fenris glares at a floor tile, at a crack that cleaves it in two. 

He thought it would be better if they were apart, if Hawke hated him. He was too afraid to feel like _that_ again, too afraid of the aching loss of having his memories returned and wrenched from him in a handful of breaths. But now he feels a different kind of loss, the loss of Hawke from his life, and he couldn't truly say which hurts more. This, perhaps, because he could go to see Hawke so easily, yet he can’t bring himself to do it. He feels like a coward.

He sighs, sitting back in his chair and gazing at the fire crackling in the grate. Not for the first time, his thoughts go back to that night, before the memories hit him. Being with Hawke was incredible. Not just his touch - as good as that felt, it was the way that Hawke _looked_ at him, the affection in his eyes, that stays with him. Just the memory of it is enough to make Fenris's throat tighten. To be looked at like he _mattered_. Like he was important to somebody.

It's still too unbelievable. Still makes him feel too raw, like his soul is on show for the world to see. 

Instead he turns his thoughts to the more physical aspects of that night. Hawke was so gentle, so considerate. He'd watched Fenris carefully as his fingers traced down his arm, making sure he wasn't hurting his markings. 

_I'm not made of porcelain,_ Fenris had snapped, and Hawke had chucked, added kisses to the touches. His beard had tickled a little, coaxing a startled laugh from Fenris. Hawke's amber gaze snapped up to his, and Fenris had smiled at him.

 _I’m fine, Hawke,_ he'd said, and Hawke had gone back to those kisses: down his arm, in the centre of his palm and the back of his hand, each fingertip. Then his lips, his neck, his collarbone. Slowly, giving Fenris every chance to ask him to slow down. It had been sweet, gentle. Nothing like anything he'd felt before, nothing like-

Fenris cuts the thought off before he can finish it and turns his attention back to the memory of Hawke's kisses, to the way his own breath had gone fast and shallow as Hawke's lips brushed his sternum, his stomach, his hips. And then he had lifted his head, looked questioningly at Fenris with his lips and fingers both inches from his cock.

 _May I?_ he'd asked, and the question - being given the chance to say no - had nearly undone Fenris; it nearly undoes him now. 

_Yes,_ he'd whispered, and realised that being with Hawke was going to better than anything he could have hoped.

He remembers how it felt to have Hawke's strong fingers wrapped around the base of his cock, and slides a hand into his trousers to do the same to himself. He groans, pulling himself out, and starts to stroke himself slowly, just as Hawke did. He lets his eyes flutter shut and relaxes into the memory of Hawke. 

One thing that Fenris remembers above all else is the _attention_ that Hawke had lavished on him. He barely seemed to care for his own pleasure, as long as Fenris felt good. And he had. The feel of Hawke's tongue on his cock - a first for him - had made him yelp most embarrassingly. By the time it got to Hawke's lips wrapping around the head of his cock, sliding down - the wet heat of his mouth, those glances up at him - Fenris lost control of the noises spilling from his lips, moans and gasps and breathless whimpers. 

It felt so good, all of it. As Fenris strokes himself his other hand goes to his inner thigh, just below his balls. He strokes his thumb over the sensitive skin there, just as Hawke had, and some of those same noises escape him again.

"Hawke," he whimpers, just as he had then. Just the _sight_ of Hawke taking the whole of Fenris's cock in his mouth had been almost too much to bear, let alone the _feel_ of it. All he'd been able to do was lie there, his hands curling into the sheets, shivering uncontrollably as Hawke's mouth brought him so close to the edge, so close-

 _Inside me,_ Fenris had gasped, begged. _Inside me, Hawke, please!_

Hawke pulled away, asking _You're sure?_ Sweet, cautious, maddening.

 _Yes! Get_ in _me!_

Fenris had never wanted anything more than he wanted Hawke inside him, filling him. His cock - so far seen only as a delicious outline in his breeches - would easily be the biggest thing Fenris had ever felt. He wanted that so much, feeling that it might overwrite the memories of previous times.

Hawke grinned and nodded eagerly. He's kissed Fenris then, stolen his breath, and then sat up to take a vial of oil from a drawer in his nightstand. Fenris had wondered with an unexpected throb of jealousy if Hawke had taken other lovers to his bed. But he was there now, and the simmering heat in Hawke's eyes, the intense affection, had burned away his doubts.

Fenris bites his lip, his strokes coming quicker now as he thinks of Hawke stretching him open slowly, carefully, sliding one thick finger inside him, then two, taking all the time in the world to make sure he was ready. He'd muttered about how beautiful Fenris was, how lucky he felt to have him in his bed, but Fenris had felt the lucky one.

 _I- I’m ready,_ he'd murmured, eager to get on with it, but Hawke had kissed his knee, and said, 

_One more? I want to be sure I won't hurt you._

Not sure how much more of Hawke's delighted smiles and loving glances he could take, Fenris had nevertheless nodded, and then arched his back as Hawke had slid a third finger inside him, stretching him more than he'd ever felt. It was intense, overlapping with pain, hard to breathe around. But it was _good_ , and Hawke had coaxed noises from him that he didn't even know he could make. Gasps and mewls and breathing Hawke's name over and over. 

_Now, please,_ Fenris had begged, and then - having not touched himself even once - Hawke had nodded and stripped off his breeches. 

Fenris groans now like he had groaned then, pure desire given voice. Hawke's cock was magnificent, there was no other word for it. Long and thick, and Fenris just knew it would be heavy in his hand or on his tongue. 

In that moment, though, Fenris had watched him pour oil into his cupped hand, and then smooth it over his cock. He'd stared, unable to look away as it glistened in the firelight. 

The memory of it makes Fenris groan, and he strokes himself more quickly, shivering at how good it feels. He throws his head back and lets out a shuddering breath, caught between the pleasure of his own hand and the remembered pleasure of seeing Hawke's naked body.

Hawke had asked him how he wanted it, and Fenris had blinked up at him, unsure how to answer, unsure what the question was. 

_Well – how do you prefer it? On your back, on your knees, against the wall? Another position of your choice?_

Choice. Something else he'd never had before. Now Fenris wishes he'd asked to experience all of them, if he'd known it was the only time they would-

But he'd chosen to lie on his back, hadn't said that it was because he wanted to see Hawke, wanted to see that it was _him_ as he was taken. 

Hawke had grinned, and Fenris grins now at the memory of Hawke crowding over him, the memory of seeing the muscle and the scars and the hair. Fenris's cock throbs at thought of it and it's almost too much for a moment. He has to pause his hand, breathing hard, backing away from the edge. He remembers Hawke kissing him again, remembers eagerly kissing back. Remembers their cocks bumping together and he has to bite his lip, hard, until he tastes copper, attempting and failing to regain control of himself. 

He takes his hand away completely, and clutches the chair arm. He thinks of the kiss, only the kiss, and Hawke's woody, musky scent. Even that's almost too much, even without touching himself, but he can't bring himself to pull away from the memory completely. 

Instead he thinks of the look in Hawke's eyes, lets the remembered affection wash over him, warming him, and he smiles. That was real. He had that, that was _his_ , if only for one night. 

Drawing in a long, shaky breath, he lets himself think of the touch again. This time his own hands had roamed over Hawke's body, over the hardness of his muscles, lingered on his arms, felt the dull ache of want in his lower belly. He feels it now, and gives a small moan as he starts to stroke himself again. 

Hawke had smiled down at him, let him take his time, until Fenris had licked his lips and looked up, met his eyes. 

_Now, Hawke,_ he'd said, his words snagging on his emotions. _Now. I want you inside me._

 _That’s what I want as well,_ Hawke had said, and kissed him again. _So much._

Fenris had wrapped one leg around Hawke's waist, the other splaying to the side, and he'd tilted his hips upwards. The position had meant that Hawke's cock slid against Fenris's hole, and both of them had groaned. 

_You're sure?_ Hawke had asked, looking into his eyes. 

_More sure of this than I've ever been of anything, Hawke,_ Fenris had said, meeting his gaze. Hawke had smiled then, and kissed Fenris, just once, sweet and hot, and then he'd pushed inside. 

Fenris groans now, but he'd cried out then, the stretch gloriously painful. His broken _Don't stop, don't stop,_ in response to Hawke's wide and worried eyes. _Please don't stop._

 _Fenris,_ Hawke had whispered, almost as broken, but he'd done as Fenris asked and kept sliding in. Fenris's eyes had been closed, his head thrown back, fistfuls of bedsheet in his hands once again, shivering and overwhelmed. 

Hawke was so big, Fenris was so _full_ \- and yes, this is exactly what he'd wanted, what he needed. Especially when he'd opened his eyes and there was that warm look in Hawke's eyes again. 

The air had been filled with the ragged sound of their breathing, the whispered name of the other on their tongues, and they'd held each other's gaze as they came for each other in a matter of moments, drowning in the pleasure of each other's body. 

The memory of Hawke coming inside him pushes Fenris over the edge now. Fenris cries out as he comes, and it echoes in his empty mansion. 

He breathes hard, holding fiercely onto the memory of Hawke's arms around him as both of them shook. He'd made him feel so wanted. Important. _Safe._

Fenris's eyes open now, and he blinks in the brightness of the hearthfire. Reality settles over him, and he feels the loss anew, like shards of jagged glass in his chest. Bitterness quickly overcomes the ebbing pleasure. 

He grabs a cloth, cleans himself up, puts himself away, and glares at the dancing flames. 

Hawke had taken much more care cleaning him up on that night. As Fenris had laid back on the bed, still breathing hard and barely able to move, Hawke had gotten a towel, wiped him clean, kissing every inch of skin. When he was done, he’d lain by Fenris’s side, smiling, smiling so much, and Fenris had smiled back, that same joy filling him. 

That had been all he wanted. To be happy. He'd never imagined he could be _that_ happy, unable to stop smiling. Hawke had kissed his hand again, and then Fenris had shifted closer to kiss his lips, slow and sweet. Hawke's arms had gone around him, and they'd lain like that, legs tangled, kissing, holding each other, sharing each other, for a long time. 

Hawke had said _Fenris,_ like his name was the only word that mattered, and rolled onto his back, still smiling, A few moments later he'd started to snore softly, and Fenris had huffed a laugh. So much for cuddling. But he'd been smiling still, watching Hawke sleep and laying a gentle hand on his chest, feeling his breath, his heart beating. 

He distinctly remembers his heart aching, in a _good_ way. He remembers being filled with wonder and joy like he'd never known, and thinking, _This is real. I can truly be this happy._

Now, he thinks he cursed himself, because that's when the memories hit him, smashing the breath out of him. 

He doesn't recall the memories now, but he feels the scar they tore into his heart, he can feel them haunting him, just out of reach. 

But he does remember slapping a hand over his mouth before he could cry out, remembers pulling his knees into his chest, remembers the pain of a life snatched away from him for the second time, all of it happening in one agonising instant. He remembers lying there, shaking, trying not to, not wanting to wake Hawke. 

He had rolled out of the bed, and dressed with shaking hands, the pain receding but the sense of a loss growing. He'd looked at Hawke, still sleeping, and felt a different kind of loss blossoming in his chest. He couldn't have his old life back, and he couldn't have this new one either. Not without feeling like that again, and he - he just _couldn’t_. 

He'd stared into the fireplace, trying to stop shaking, wondering if he should wake Hawke or if it would be better to just leave.

 _Was it that bad?_ Hawke had asked, waking without Fenris's notice, and he'd turned, flustered. 

Shortly after, he’d walked away.

"I shouldn't have left," Fenris murmurs to the fire, which continues to burn, uncaring. 

He should go to Hawke, explain, or at least apologise. He _should_. But he doesn't. He stays where he is, staring at the fire. 

Moments later - or so it seems - a noise startles him from an unexpected nap. He blinks blearily, rubs his eyes. The noise comes again - a knock at the door. 

He grabs his sword, pads to the door, glaring suspiciously at it before cracking it open. 

Oh. 

It's Hawke. Alone. Dressed in new armour that’s already scuffed. His head is cast down, but his eyes look up at Fenris warily, like he's expecting to be snarled at. 

Fenris swallows, and opens the door wider. "Ah. Hawke. Come in."

He steps inside, glances around, and Fenris feels his cheeks burn at the thought that not an hour ago he was pleasuring himself to the memory of Hawke's body. 

He stays near the door, watching as Hawke moves to the middle of the entrance hall, tapping his thigh; a nervous tic. At least Fenris isn't the only one who's less than comfortable with this. He wonders if Hawke wants to run, like he does. 

_Apologise,_ Fenris orders himself, but his mouth refuses to comply. The words sit there, trapped behind his teeth. 

"There's been a spot of bother," Hawke says, turning and looking at Fenris with a wariness that hurts, however deserved it is. 

"Bother? Around you, Hawke? Surely not."

A smile plays over Hawke's lips. "Shocking, isn't it? Members of the Carta attacked Bethany."

The humour crashes away from Fenris, revealing concern he never thought he'd feel for a mage. "Is she alright?"

Hawke nods. "Yes. But I want to know why the Carta would attack a Circle mage. And I want to make sure it doesn't happen again. I could use your help, if you're willing to give it."

"Of course," Fenris says instantly, grasping the olive branch and eager to help protect his friends. "Give me a moment to get my armour."

Hawke nods. "I'll wait here."

Fenris goes back up to the room he thinks of as his, and pulls on his breastplate and gauntlets. Part of his mind lingers on Hawke, the rest trying to make sense of the situation with Bethany. It seems so odd. Not that he's an expert on the Carta; perhaps Varric will have more answers. He buckles his belt, slips potions into pockets. 

And then he pauses. 

There are two other things left on the dresser. A length of red silk, and a token with Hawke's family crest. Things given to him by Hawke in between kisses, a whispered _I want you to have these_ , and the silk being tied around his bare wrist. 

Does he have the right to wear these tokens of Hawke's affection? He's been wearing the silk while in his mansion, but to wear it before Hawke - would it be seen as rude, or as a small act of reconciliation?

Fenris picks up the silk, sighs at the feel of it against his palm. He wants to wear it. It feels _right_ to wear it. And if Hawke asks for it back, at least he will know where he stands. Without giving himself any more time to doubt, he ties it around his wrist, straps the crest to his belt. 

Heading back downstairs, he wants to look away from Hawke's reaction, but forces himself to hold his head high. So he sees Hawke's gaze drop to the flash of red at his wrist, to the crest at his belt. He sees the cautious optimism in Hawke's eyes as he meets Fenris's; sees his gaze drop away again. There's a beat of silence. Another. 

"Let's go," Hawke says, and Fenris nods. 

"Lead, and I will follow," he says, and for now, that is enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty convinced that if you have Fenris in your party in Legacy, it's the first time Hawke and Fenris have seen each other since they slept together. I mean, [look at this dialogue](http://dragonage.wikia.com/wiki/Fenris/Dialogue#Fenris_and_Hawke_2):
> 
>  **Hawke:** So, Fenris... we, uh... we haven't spoken since...  
>  **Fenris:** You wish to do this here? In front of everyone?
> 
> and
> 
>  **Fenris:** Thank you for asking me to come along again, Hawke.  
>  **Hawke:** Is there a reason I wouldn't?  
>  **Fenris:** I just... am pleased. To see you. That's all.
> 
> That's what inspired this story. Well. That, and I wanted to write some Fenhawke smut. 
> 
> I also wanted to write something that explained _when_ exactly Fenris got his memories back, and why Hawke didn't notice his reaction. I also like the idea that it was strong emotions that triggered the memories, rather than the sex itself (which could be why an unromanced Fenris is happy sleeping with Isabela - the sex is great but they're not in love (imo)). 
> 
> [I'm also on tumblr](http://raininginadelaide.tumblr.com/) if you fancy far too many Dragon Age reblogs on your dash.


End file.
